Celia Thaxter

Spring Again

I STOOD on the height in the stillness
    And the planet’s outline scanned,
And half was drawn with the line of sea
    And half with the far blue land.
 
With wings that caught the sunshine
    In the crystal deeps of the sky,
Like shapes of dreams, the gleaming gulls
    Went slowly floating by.
 
Below me the boats in the harbor
    Lay still, with their white sails furled;
Sighing away into silence,
    The breeze died off the world.
 
On the weather-worn, ancient ledges
    Peaceful the calm light slept;
And the chilly shadows, lengthening,
    Slow to the eastward crept.
 
The snow still lay in the hollows,
    And where the salt waves met
The iron rock, all ghastly white
    The thick ice glimmered yet.
 
But the smile of the sun was kinder,
    The touch of the air was sweet;
The pulse of the cruel ocean seemed
    Like a human heart to beat.
 
Frost-locked, storm-beaten, and lonely,
    In the midst of the wintry main,
Our bleak rock yet the tidings heard:
    “There shall be spring again!”
 
Worth all the waiting and watching,
    The woe that the winter wrought,
Was the passion of gratitude that shook
    My soul at the blissful thought!
 
Soft rain and flowers and sunshine,
    Sweet winds and brooding skies,
Quick-flitting birds to fill the air
    With clear, delicious cries;
 
And the warm sea’s mellow murmur
    Resounding day and night;
A thousand shapes and tints and tones
    Of manifold delight,
 
Nearer and ever nearer
    Drawing with every day!
But a little longer to wait and watch
    'Neath skies so cold and gray,
 
And hushed is the roar of the bitter north
    Before the might of the Spring,
And up the frozen slope of the world
    Climbs Summer, triumphing.
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